A Whole New Battle
by Miss Maria
Summary: After the fall of Voldemort, everyone has started to move on. But has fate brought them all back to Hogwarts for a reason? Can there be a new Dark Lord?
1. Chapter 1: A Funeral

_**Disclaimer: We do not own any of these characters, places, or otherwise book-related content courtesy of the wonderful J.K.Rowling. All story ideas, however, come from the crazy minds of Miss Maria and PirateMaiden. **_

A Funeral

Hermione pulled at the edges of her black skirt. _Fudge dead? How could this be? _ She sighed and nodded to Harry and Ron, also exiting the graveyard. She would have to return to Hogwarts tomorrow to continue her work with McGonagall. The Auror training was taking longer than planned, and she still had trouble transfiguring herself into that damn teacup. Good thing McGonagall had agreed to take her on as an assistant so she would be able to practice as much as she needed with no worries of the "wrong person" seeing her.

Lost in her thoughts, she suddenly became aware that Dumbledore was calling to her from across the way. Shaking her head to clear the mess, she pushed her hair away from her face, and waved to acknowledge that she had seen him.

Albus Dumbledore, white and witty as ever, watched as the young witch wandered alone mulling over the many ideas that were always present in her mind. He waved at called her name, but it took a moment for her to register. He was aware of her agreement with Professor McGonagall, but wanted to make sure that she was clear on all of the rules.

"Hello Headmaster." Hermione greeted her old friend.

"Hermione, you are no longer a student. There is no need to address me as 'Headmaster'; I no longer hold control over your punishments."

She grinned at this blatant comment to her disobedience. It was not entirely her fault that her two best friends had a certain disregard for the rules. "Professor Dumbledore," she corrected, "are you well?"

"I am fine, and yourself?"

"Just confused," she admitted. He gave her a questioning look from behind his spectacles, blue eyes like a calm sea today.

"But why?"

"How did this happen? I mean, two days ago we were having tea and talking about how wonderful life was now that Harry and Vold- Voldem-" Hearing her voice start to crack, she stopped.

Dumbledore laid a comforting arm over her small shoulders. "I know. It was a bad battle, but it is done. Harry's recovering quite well and we no longer hear from any of Voldemort's loyal followers. He is gone, Hermione; there is nothing left to fear."

"I know, but it's just all so sudden." She hugged herself to stop the shudders from returning. Ever since she had contacted McGonagall about returning to Hogwarts, the dreams had come. The nightmares of the last great fight when Harry, lost and alone, had been forced to fight to the death continued to haunt her. It was only through the perfect timing of fellow Order members that Harry had survived at all.

"It's all right. Harry's fine. He's recovered and from what I hear from the ministry, completing his Auror tasks with flying colors. Not to put too bad of a pun on it." He smiled to himself at the thought of his little Harry, who he had known since his first year at Hogwarts, becoming one of the greatest Auror's in history. Hermione seemed to have calmed down by this point, so he released her from his grip and she stepped away.

"Thanks Professor." She looked up at him through her watery eyes.

"Now go get some rest. McGonagall is going to make sure you're awake bright and early."

"Bye Professor."

"Goodbye Hermione." He turned to the grave of Cornelius Fudge while Hermione apparated behind him. He really hoped that she got the rest he had advised her.

"Headmaster." Snape's voice rang from behind him as he walked to stand beside the aging man.

"Severus. What brings you here? I never knew that you and the minister were well acquainted." Snape shrugged but declined to comment, instead choosing to change the subject. "How are things at the school?"

"Fine, thank you. It seems that more people are willing to let their children attend now that Voldemort has been put out of the way."

"I see." Apparently, Snape's loathing of Potter had not lessened even in light of the recent fight. "Potter doing well I take it? He never did want to wait for us to join him. Simply took off all on his own, didn't he? He always did-"

"Harry did what was asked of him by the twenty or so of us that were pushing him to do it. He tried to save the world without sacrificing his loved ones at the same time. I'm sure you would have done the same in his position."

"And the prophecy?"

"Fulfilled. 'Neither can live while the other survives.' And to our credit, Harry has helped us a great deal. Harry survived so therefore we can truly know that Tom Riddle is gone." Dumbledore nodded in the direction of Fudge's gravestone and turned to go, pausing only long enough to adjust his spectacles, and walked away.

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	2. Chapter 2: Return to Hogwarts

_**Disclaimer: We do not own any of these characters, places, or otherwise book-related content courtesy of the wonderful J.K.Rowling. All story ideas, however, come from the crazy minds of Miss Maria and PirateMaiden. **_

**_Chapter 2 : Return to Hogwarts_**

As she stepped out of the carriage, Hermione paused a moment. She stared at the towers, taking in every inch of the castle as though seeing it for the first time. She sighed as she climbed the stairs and entered through the front doors. She knew the memories would return, but that did not mean she had prepared herself for them.

Dismissing the nostalgia, Hermione grabbed her suitcase and shoulder bag and headed to her room. Since she was working with McGonagall, her quarters were in the separate teacher's area of Gryffindor; the one where the Head of House slept. It was odd being back at Hogwarts, especially since Harry and Ron were not nearby. Hermione stopped as she reached the moving staircases; her brain racing to remember the way.

"Lost?" A voice said from behind.

"No, no." Hermione replied distantly, lost in her thoughts. She waved a stray hair from her face, the rest pulled back into a ponytail.

"Granger?" The voice sounded startled.

Hermione turned, and saw none other than Draco Malfoy staring back at her. His black cloak offered a clear sign of whose footsteps he followed, but he was different. She noticed his hair not quite as slick, his eyes not quite as piercing. She laughed, her wish for familiar faces had granted her a former enemy.

"Malfoy? Whatever are you doing here?" Hermione asked, turning back to the ever-changing staircases.

"I work here. You are looking at the new Potions Master, thank you very much." He grinned stupidly, playfully, proudly.

"I should have guessed. Your robes suit the job." She laughed, a natural conversation flowing between the two.

"What? These old things? No way, Granger. I was working on some examples for classes next week and was not in mind to damage my suits." He looked a bit annoyed, but softened at her confused expression. Changing the subject, "what's your excuse?"

Hermione flustered. "Excuse?"

"Well, I applied for the job here, but I didn't realize there was another opening. What brought you back?"

"Oh," she begged for her facial expression not to show the relief that washed through her, "I'm working on the final stage of Auror training, and McGonagall agreed to help me. I'm staying with her in Gryffindor for the next year."

"Ah, I see. Dumbledore didn't mention that, but then again, he doesn't mention much these days." Draco faltered and a faint blush crept into his neck.

"Oh?" Worry took Hermione with a death grip.

"Ever since Voldemort and Harry . . . Look, I really shouldn't be discussing this. Not here," he gestured to the empty hallway, "not now." As this was said, Professor Dumbledore himself walked around the corner. Arms open wide, discussing something of trivial value with Professor Sinistra with the utmost enthusiasm – as was his way. Hermione looked from the aging wizard to Draco, the timing too near perfect for her intuitions to go array. Had Malfoy developed a Time-True sense? He was only twenty-five, for goodness sake! Dumbledore possessed this skill, but few others, and Dumbledore was . . . well, Dumbledore was old.

"Ah!" he cried upon seeing the two at the bottom of the staircase. "Two of our more younger and lively employees. Surely you remember these two Professor Sinistra?" She nodded, and he went on. "Although, seeing them get along well is quite a surprise. No harsh feelings of the past keeping you two up at night?"

Hermione and Draco were caught off guard. Neither one had actually remembered the last fight they had had in seventh year; they had simply allowed conversation to start in a respectful grown up manner. At least, that's what they convinced themselves. Dumbledore glanced at them over the tops of his spectacles and cried, "To the feast then. You three can find your seats on your own, I shall be there in a moment. And, oh, Hermione," he asked of her retreating figure as she turned back to meet him, "up the stairs, third door on the right."


End file.
